“Got a minute?”

Three words that bring out the middle school girl in me. I can almost feel the eye roll forming before I turn around.

When I speak to audiences about the phrase “Got a minute?” I usually remind them that whoever is asking for a minute is almost guaranteed to need more than one. They want you to think about something, work through something, or help solve something—and rarely can that be accomplished in sixty seconds.

Recently, I heard those three familiar words and knew who was standing behind me before I even turned around.

I love working with this person and always learn something from them. But I also knew that their “minute” was probably going to be several. My natural response would have been to multitask—not necessarily with my hands, but definitely in my head. I would listen while mentally rehearsing everything I still needed to finish.

• The email I needed to send.
• The document waiting to be completed.
• The next meeting already approaching.

I would have been physically present but mentally somewhere else.

This time, I tried something different.

I paused. I wrote what I had been working on on a Post-it note, turned away from my computer, and listened without distraction. What followed was not a minor question or a quick update. It was an incredible idea that could help move forward an initiative that had stalled the year before. This person had spent a significant part of the summer reading articles, thinking deeply, and developing a completely different approach to the work—one that could actually work.

I almost missed it because I was busy protecting my schedule from an interruption.

What the Pause Made Possible

The pace of school leadership shifts during the summer. I still support K–12 summer programming, but with many teachers and administrators taking time away, my calendar looks a little less like Level 27 of Tetris. That additional margin has allowed me to wander into classrooms and talk with students without worrying that I am already late for the next thing. During the past few weeks of “got-a-minutes,” I learned why one fourth grader was pulling so hard for Argentina in the World Cup. I joined a class dance and relived parts of my younger years during Decades Day in summer music. I sat with high school students and heard about their summer experiences, challenges, and learning.

None of those moments appeared on my task list.

They reminded me that leadership does not only happen in scheduled meetings, completed projects, or carefully constructed strategic plans. Sometimes leadership happens in the space we are tempted to rush through.

Serving in the Pause

I recently reread John Mark Comer’s The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry while continuing to unlearn some of my own hustle-driven leadership habits.

One reflection kept returning to me:

A pause is an opportunity to deepen a relationship. Don’t rush through it. Look for the opportunity to serve within it.

Pausing does not mean abandoning the work. It means becoming fully present to the person, idea, or need in front of us. That distinction matters. There will always be interruptions that require boundaries. Not every request deserves immediate attention, and accepting every interruption is not sustainable leadership. But we can become so determined to protect our productivity that we fail to notice what—or who—our productivity is supposed to serve.

The pause gives us enough space to discern the difference.

• Is this simply a distraction?
• Or is this a person who needs to feel seen?
• Is this a problem I need to redirect?
• Or is this the idea we have been waiting for?

We cannot answer those questions while mentally sprinting toward the next task.

Protecting the Margin

As August creeps closer, my schedule will begin filling again. Teachers and administrators will return. Meetings will multiply. The pace will accelerate.

My challenge is not simply to appreciate the margin I have during the summer. It is to protect some of it when the school year begins.

• I want to continue creating space for the unscheduled conversation.
• The student who stops by.
• The staff member who has been thinking about a problem from a new angle.
• The colleague who needs someone to listen before they are ready to act.

Honestly, this will be difficult. Hustle has been part of my leadership style for a long time. Moving quickly feels productive. Finishing tasks feels measurable. Pausing can feel as though I am falling behind.

But I am beginning to understand that the interruption is not always keeping me from the work.

Sometimes, the interruption is the work.

• The small action may be writing the unfinished task on a Post-it note.
• The steady pace may be turning away from the screen and becoming fully present.
• The lasting impact may be an idea that moves an initiative forward—or a person who walks away knowing they were heard, known, and valued.

That is the rhythm I am working to practice.

Not rushing through the pause, but learning how to serve within it.

Small actions. Steady pace. Lasting impact.

Explore more about the rhythms of sustainable leadership in The Drip Effect: Breaking Free From Hustle Culture.

Dr. Jessica Cabeen